


fifty-five degrees

by bigeunbi



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, all characters will be mentioned/more pairings as they go, ice skating/figure skater au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigeunbi/pseuds/bigeunbi
Summary: 2. if jo haseul is a household name among junior skaters, then ha sooyoung is the dark horse nobody knows the name of yet.-loona ice skating/figure skating au.





	1. fifty five degrees (part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly don't have much of a clue about the technicalities of ice skating other than what i've watched from the olympics, youtube vids, the yuri on ice anime and a lot of basic research so please feel free to correct me if i say anything wrong or describe something incorrectly! thank you!!
> 
> feel free to talk to me on twitter @choerryliptint or my curiouscat @rorangie :)
> 
> p.s. i will continue my chuuves series at some point! i haven't forgotten about it!

it’s an average of fifty-five degrees fahrenheit in the ice rink.

jungeun is not used to the cold just yet, hasn’t always been good with chilly days and wants to hibernate when winter rolls around, but she’ll have to adjust to it if she’s going to start skating. it’s a hobby she picks up from jiwoo, just something to try out after so much of her best friend’s pestering. how can she say no to jiwoo, who has loved to draw figure eights into frozen layers of lake water when they were little, who now skates competitively, and has the world’s most convincing puppy dog eyes?

(“oh my god, jiwoo,” a dramatic, drawn out, exasperated sigh leaves jungeun’s body, “can you please stop looking at me like that?”

“then you’ll do it? you’ll try out skating?” big, round eyes look up at jungeun hopefully. jiwoo’s smiling, already knowing what her best friend for life is going to say next.

“ugh, yes, i will try skating—“ she finally agrees. “but you gotta help me pay for the fees, since this is your idea.”

“i’m so, so, so excited! jungie!!” and that’d been the end of that conversation, with jiwoo leaping with great faith into jungeun’s arms without any warning. at least she’s happy, jungeun thinks.)

jiwoo gives her lessons on the weekends, when she’s free from her class schedules and her cafe job. she’s not a bad teacher, jungeun learns, but sometimes jiwoo can not find the right words to describe a particular movement to jungeun and someone nearby chimes in helpfully to lend a hand. seeing jiwoo’s sheepish smile after the fact is enough to let her off easy, though—jiwoo skates because it’s fun, trying to teach her best friend about the sport she loves so much, and who is she to ruin that just because she’s not the best with words?

a couple of lessons turn into something more; jungeun tells jiwoo to stop paying for her ice rink membership and starts paying it herself. then, buys herself a brand new pair of ice skates. she gets jiwoo to be the first one to lace them up for her when she shows them off. she becomes a regular at the ice rink in a matter of a couple months and these days, jungeun’s practicing at the rink by herself more often than not.

jungeun decides she likes ice skating.

(and she gets a little used to the constant chill in the ice rink.)

 

 

 

after being away for the competitive season, the day jiwoo comes back to seoul is the start of the korean nationals. jungeun and yerim come out to support their friend as best as they can, in true fashion: embarrassing baby pictures of jiwoo blown up on large banners with _“kim jiwoo, korea’s baby”_ painted in large letters, while they scream their hearts out as jiwoo enters the rink for her short program. it’s as great as they knew it’d be; they can’t expect anything less of an entertaining performance from her.

they run away from the arena seats to go find their esteemed figure skater after her performance. jungeun scans the crowd-filled hallway, does not see their friend or hear her signature bubbly laugh. “yerim, go look for jiwoo that way, i’ll look this way.”

“roger! let’s meet back here in fifteen!”

she wades through groups of people, pushing past spectators left and right. how hard is it supposed to be to find jiwoo? she may be little, but jiwoo has a large personality, a heart bigger than her body—it should be a piece a cake. jiwoo just radiates sunshine like it’s nothing, after all.

rounding the corner of a quieter hallway, jungeun spots a room with jiwoo’s name on it. she pauses in front of it, puts her ear up to the door and hears nothing from the other side. there’s a chance that no one is inside, but it couldn’t hurt to knock, anyway. after hearing no response, jungeun decides to open the door to peek her head in.

“jiwoo? you in here?”

jungeun steps halfway inside before she realizes someone _is_ in the room, but a quick glance at blonde hair is an alarming sign that this person is definitely not jiwoo. she freezes with one leg inside, awkwardly straddling the entrance.

her eyes fall on blonde hair in waves that cascade down the length of a woman’s back. she is stretching out her arms with her back facing jungeun, long and thin limbs over her head. her clothes are a deep cobalt color. she suspects that it’s a skating costume. jungeun puts two and two together, blanches when she realizes she needs to get out of the room but the sight is much too captivating for her to pull away her gaze.

“jungeun? what are you doing?”

shocked by a loud voice from behind her, jungeun stumbles into the room and the woman in cobalt stops stretching, looks in the direction of the door. jungeun sees jiwoo and yerim by the entrance.

“welcome back jiwoo. how was your short program?” the woman in cobalt asks. a friendly smile spreads across her face. jungeun feels something warm spread across her cheeks at the sight. “and, is your friend okay?”

“i’m—i’m fine,” jungeun manages to get out, in between glancing at the stranger skater and not. she backs up to settle next to jiwoo’s side. she lets out a small laugh as she wraps her arm around jiwoo’s shoulder. “gosh, i was looking for you, but i guess i beat you here. what took you so long?”

as jiwoo talks about her short program, yerim interjecting with her own outbursts of excitement, jungeun cannot keep her eyes off of the woman in cobalt while she listens from the side.

the woman in cobalt stops the riveting discussion on this year’s top picks for the grand prix to leave for her performance. moving out of her way to the door, jungeun swears that she locks eyes with her up until she’s out of the room.

 

 

 

jiwoo ushers jungeun and yerim back into the stands after a few snacks in the cafeteria. they sit beside a dark haired woman by the name of sooyoung they’d seen skate moments before jiwoo earlier in the day (“she’s, like, _such_ an amazing skater!” jiwoo exclaims, and jungeun can literally see the hearts in her eyes while she talks about the girl next to her). the introductions are relatively short as an announcement is made for the next competitor to come onto the ice.

 _“up next, last year's grand prix silver medalist, jung jinsoul will be performing her 2018 short program,_ singing in the rain, _choreographed by…”_

“oh my gosh,” she hears jiwoo next to her gasp, “it’s already jinsoul’s turn! i’m so glad we made it.”

she doesn’t understand the hype at first. jungeun takes a look at the skater coming onto the ice and the first thing she sees is shimmering cobalt—the same shade that was worn by the woman in jiwoo's dressing room.

the blonde skater skirts around the ice with an elegance jungeun's unfamiliar with. an air of confidence surrounds her. she watches as the skater moves to the center of the rink, coming to a slow stop. jungeun feels her breath stop in her throat as she watches jinsoul draw her arms together in front of her, readies herself. the arena falls silent.

_(i can't take my eyes off of her.)_

the music plays. jungeun's heart starts beating again. jinsoul pushes off the ice, and starts to skate.

 

 

 

jiwoo and yerim are the first to stand up, sooyoung next, and jungeun follows them with a blank face to the kiss and cry outside of the rink. she hears the three chattering on about jung jinsoul's performance, but jungeun doesn't really listen to them. she’s caught up in her own thoughts about the performance.

jinsoul's fluid, dance-like movements combined with instances of sharp, precise step sequences stay vivid in her memory. there hadn't been a single instance where jungeun wanted to look away—couldn't, because the skater on the ice demanded all of her attention, and jungeun gave everything she had to jung jinsoul in that moment without hesitation.

she spots jinsoul's cobalt costume in the near distance as their group approaches the kiss and cry. there's laughter that cuts through the loud chatter. she watches from the edge of the group as jinsoul high-fives sooyoung and noogies jiwoo.

"good show out there, jung," sooyoung offers a wry smile, a challenging tone laced in her voice, “you might actually have a chance against me and jeon heejin for the gold this year."

"just wait, ha sooyoung, keep talking like that and it'll be in my hands before you know it."

" _guys,_ " jiwoo whines, pulling the other two skaters into her arms and hugging them close, "can't we save this weird, friendly, competitive, egging-each-other-on flirting for after the competition and just congratulate each other like normal people?"

there's boisterous laughter as everyone agrees. yerim finds a way to meander into their conversation, and with a tug of jiwoo's hand jungeun gets pulled in, too.

"you guys did great today," she decides to say, nodding in jiwoo and sooyoung's direction. when she looks at jinsoul, her eyes linger a little too long. "seriously, you make skating look so easy."

"it's because it's fun," jinsoul returns jungeun's gaze. the way she looks back at her brings warmth to her cheeks. "when you're having fun, it's all you can think about."

 

 

 

the ice rink seems chillier today.

jungeun breathes warm air into her hands, rubs them together to keep them toasty. no matter how many times she comes back to the rink, she can't get used to the low temperature.

she's the first one at the rink. early mornings are her favorite time to slip on her skates, lacing them tight against her feet, take the first glide on unmarred ice. sunlight peaks through small windows towards the top of the ice rink's walls, but offers little warmth. she takes a breath in, then exhales. jungeun sees her breath in the air in soft, cloudy wisps.

she steps onto the ice, right foot first then pushes off with her left. the best way for her to warm up is to make her way around the perimeter of the rink in laps slowly but steadily. this is how she likes to spend her mornings: mindlessly skating around on the fresh ice with just her thoughts and the quiet humming of the air conditioner in the background.

jungeun skates, but she's not a figure skater like jiwoo. jumps and leaps across the ice are fun to watch, but she can't imagine doing them herself. she's tried to learn the simpler techniques, finds that she falls hard and jungeun would rather save herself the pain than eat shit after trying once or twice.

tricks aren’t for her. or rather: performing isn’t what she’s looking for in skating. jungeun skates because it helps her clear her head when life gets to be too much. her mind goes blank once her feet hit the ice. it’s nice to not think about anything. she gets a chance to enjoy herself for once.

(“it’s because it’s fun,” she remembers jinsoul saying to her before, “when you’re having fun, it’s all you can think about.”)

she loves ice skating—jungeun would even go as far to say it’s fun—but the way jinsoul skates and the way she skates seem like it’s two different definitions of the very word.

there shouldn’t be any reason why she’s thinking about comparing herself to jinsoul, but jungeun stops halfway on the shorter side of the ice rink’s perimeter and looks out to the center. she imagines herself in a sparkling outfit with a fancy sleeve, maybe something that shows off her shoulders, a short trail of sheer fabric that wraps around her waist like a skirt. maybe the outfit is red, or maybe it’s black, and she imagines herself in the center of the ice rink about to prepare for some kind of performance.

it’d start out strong. jungeun has always enjoyed the shows where the performer boldly declares their story at the beginning, already immersed in the performance from the minute the music starts and the ice is marred by skates. then it would transition to something slower, to show that there’s a change in the emotion she’s trying to portray. a couple of glides around the ice, maybe a jump or two, and then the music would pick up its tempo once more and she’d finish the show just as boldly as she started it.

before she knows it, she’s out in the middle of the ice rink with sweat dotting along the sides of her face, panting. she looks back at where she had been, sees trails of zig-zags and smooth lines behind her. when did she do that? she can’t remember even moving away from the edge of the rink, but for some reason—jungeun doesn’t mind the way she feels right now. her imagination got the best of her, but part of her wishes that it’d been real.

it’s days like this she thinks about working on her jumps.

 

 

 

“jungie! look who i have with me today!”

jiwoo’s voice echos inside the ice rink. jungeun looks up from where she’d been sitting in the bleachers, untying her skates from her feet. her eyes go wide as she sees the familiar faces standing on either side of jiwoo.

“hey,” sooyoung greets cooly. she waves her hand and jungeun nods at her in acknowledgement.

“sorry for crashing,” says jinsoul, and jungeun lamely nods at her as well. the blonde skater’s lips ease into a smile; jungeun thinks her heart’s stopped. “jiwoo’s always wanted to have us come over for some casual skating. something about home turf pride, and all that.”

“i just wanted to share a piece of myself with you guys,” jiwoo pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. jungeun doesn’t miss the way sooyoung laughs at how childish the shorter girl reacts, how she pokes jiwoo’s cheek to tease her and sees her best friend’s face go beet red.

she makes a note to ask about that later.

“it’s cool,” jungeun says in reply. she stands up from the bleachers and sets her skates down beside her, laces messy on the floor. “i was just finishing up here. do you want me to get out of your way?” she offers.

jiwoo whines immediately out of protest, obviously annoyed that she would even ask that to begin with. “don’t go! you don’t have to skate with us, but we just got here—can’t you hang out with us for a little bit?”

jungeun glances in sooyoung’s direction. the dark haired girl shrugs, shaking her head. “you’re not in our way. i don’t mind an audience to show off to,” she adds with a hint of mischief. she probably says that to annoy jiwoo who’s still pouting.

then she looks at jinsoul, who smiles back at her warmly with closed eyes, says nothing. maybe she doesn’t have to say anything at all. jungeun sighs.

“i’ll… just sit here, then. i have some homework to catch up on anyway.”

and so, jungeun stays at the ice rink for a little longer today.

 

 

 

sooyoung and jiwoo seemed like opposites at first, but the more jungeun observes them from the sidelines, the more she feels like she’s peeping in on two people who seem a little more than just friends. her homework is long forgotten, by this point; not that she’d expect to get it done anyway, but the excuse to stay put even though she’d finished up hours ago quickly dissolved.

she watches jiwoo twirl around on the ice with the widest grin on her face, cheeks dusted in pink, laughing over something jinsoul did. it’s nice to see her best friend happy. jungeun doesn’t need much else in the world if it means jiwoo could always be like this.

(she loves her best friend a lot, okay?)

humming to herself, her gaze moves from the pair to jinsoul, who’s grinning unabashedly as she poses funnily in front of them. it’s hard to imagine that the charismatic and enchanting jung jinsoul that she had first witnessed that day is the same woman who’s trying to make jiwoo laugh until she cries.

while looking in her direction, jinsoul must have felt her gaze on her the whole time. she turns around to look at her, waving. she skates over to the edge of the rink so that she’s closer to where jungeun’s sitting. jungeun immediately straightens in her seat, inclined to seem a bit more formal in front of jinsoul.

“how’s your homework going?” the blonde asks her. jungeun brushes back locks of her own brown hair over her shoulder, self-conscious of her appearance now that someone ( _jinsoul_ ) is here to talk.

“it’s going,” she lies, glancing down at her empty notebook pages. “just taking a little break from it. you guys look like you’re having fun out there.”

“sure are. it’s a blast out there right now,” jinsoul laughs quietly. without a prompt to go on, she continues to talk about a topic she’ll bring up herself. “sooyoung’s always had a stick up her ass when it comes to skating. she wants to be the best and she’s confident that she is, so she always wants to show off.”

there’s a moment where jungeun sees something in jinsoul’s eyes that she can’t quite put a name to, doesn’t know what that look is but knows what it means when she catches jinsoul looking in sooyoung’s direction. the blonde skater continues, “but when she’s around jiwoo, her wanting to show off just seems a little different. it’s not about showing people she’s got what it takes to be number one—it’s…”

“it’s like she’s showing off to impress her, right?”

“oh wow,” jinsoul is mildly surprised by the way jungeun finishes the sentence for her. “that’s exactly it. can you read minds?”

jungeun shakes her head. “it’s kind of obvious. jiwoo’s blushing like a school girl over there. honestly, i can’t remember a time i saw her like this and we’re, like, best friends for life. were they always like this?”

“as far as i know? yeah, they have. sooyoung approached her first when jiwoo just debuted the other year.”

she finds it interesting that she’s hearing about jiwoo’s love life from someone other than the girl herself. jungeun thinks it’s cute, but she’ll have to bring up how peeved she is about hearing about this secondhand when she asks about what sooyoung is to her.

“so,” jinsoul speaks up again, “what about you?”

“what about me?”

“you skate too, but i’ve never seen you at the competitions. jiwoo’s talked about how she roped her friend into skating, but i always thought she’d bring them into the limelight, too. so you could compete together.”

“i’m…” she doesn’t know what to say at first. it’s true—jiwoo had always tried to convince her to join the competitive world of figure skating when she started teaching her how to move on the ice. the fear of failure after trying to learn the different jumps had been enough to scare her away from the thought, though, and jungeun enjoyed the sport more when it was just her hobby—not a job like jiwoo’s. “i’m a lot happier just like this.”

jungeun falls quiet. jinsoul hums to fill the silence. as they sit in silence, they watch jiwoo and sooyoung hold hands and skate in laps along the ice rink’s edge. jungeun only glances at jinsoul’s back turned to her when she hears her say something, after a long moment.

“i’d love to see you skate sometime,” jinsoul murmurs, craning her head over her shoulder to catch her gaze again. “if you’d let me.”

“oh,” jungeun looks away, anywhere but at jinsoul’s eyes on her. she nods slowly. “sure.”

even after jinsoul leaves her to go skate around with sooyoung and jiwoo, she can only think about the blonde skater seeing her on the ice. it’s nerve-wreaking; jinsoul is a professional, and jungeun isn’t. jinsoul’s trained and jungeun can barely do a simple toe jump or a step sequence. frankly, she pales in comparison.

would jinsoul find her skating as captivating as jungeun found hers?


	2. frozen (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if jo haseul is a household name among junior skaters, then ha sooyoung is the dark horse nobody knows the name of yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this fic and sticking along! as always, please feel free to point out any errors i make in regards to the structure of figure skating, skating technicalities, and etc. ><
> 
> twitter @thinkingabtchuu  
> curiouscat @rorangie
> 
> note: the events in this chapter are in the past!

jo haseul has always been destined for greatness.

as the daughter of professional ice skaters, she’s always known that her life had been meant to be lived on the ice. haseul’s earlier memories are of her parents taking her out to the local ice rink when she’s barely one, her father holding her up against his back as he glides them across the ice. then, once she started learning how to walk, her mother would teach her how to step onto the ice. haseul’s first time ice skating is anything but perfect, but her mother had always been there to catch her when she slipped. when she could skate on her own, it’s only then they begin to teach her the art of figure skating.

the big names in the world of figure skating had their eyes on her the moment she was born. it goes without saying, that the world had been waiting to see the type of skater that haseul would become. they wait for her to follow her parents’ footsteps.

her family had centered their lives around skating and what had been her father and mother’s dream, is now hers.

haseul is thirteen when she skates competitively for the first time. she’s nervous, despite all the practice she’s put into this. while waiting for her turn, she sits quietly in the room meant for skaters on standby, watching the television screen pensively. there’s three skaters ahead of her.

“you’re going to do fine, haseul,” her coach says from across the room. he doesn’t look up from his phone. she assumes that he’s talking with her parents, because when isn’t he? “if you’re anything like you’re mom and dad, you’ll do fine.”

she bites her lip. there’s the taste of copper in her mouth.

“yeah,” she mumbles, keeps her gaze down and at her feet. her skates shimmer underneath the bright lights. the skates are new, a gift from her parents for entering her first competition. her mother had laced her up in them herself, and right after that, haseul’s father shined them so that they could match the same radiance that their daughter had.

(“you look so beautiful,” her mother said to her, voice wavering. haseul thinks her mother might start crying any second now while she gets the last of the laces through the holes of her skates. it feels tight, but the skates have been broken in enough that it doesn’t hurt, at least. haseul focuses more on the slight pain than the sound of her mother’s voice. “you’re going to be the only person people will remember tonight—i know it.”

“haseul,” she turns her head up to look up at her father’s face. there’s a calm expression on his face, but haseul can’t quite read what the wrinkles in his forehead mean or how stern he looks with his arms crossed in front of him. sometimes he goes in between being a father and being a coach. she wonders which side of him she likes better.

“remember what you’ve learned,” he reminds her, “everything you’ve done up until now has been preparing you for this moment. you’ll do fine,” haseul sees his expression soften, just a little bit, the wrinkles in his forehead disappearing but there’s still no sign of a smile, “as long as you do as you practiced.”

she nods and quietly answers with “yes, i will,” and thanks her mother for tying her laces up. they leave without saying anything else, off to the spectator seats before she goes on. it’s the last time she sees them before the performance. haseul watches their retreating figures until she can’t see them anymore.

when they’re gone, her face falls sullen. it’s a stark contrast between the perfectly pinned bun atop of her head, the sparkling, white dress she’s wearing, and her new ice skates.

she sighs. “so much for wishing me good luck…”)

the sound of the door opening brings her gaze up from her feet to where a gentleman with a headset approaches her coach. “jo haseul? you’re up next.”

her coach shoots her a pointed look. there’s confidence in his face, and she wishes that she could have one, too. “let’s show the world what you’ve got,” he says, and holds open the door for her to exit.

haseul exits the room, and embarks on the start of her figure skating career.

  
  
  


by the time she is sixteen, jo haseul is a household name among young figure skaters. headlines preface her achievements with her parents’ names, and she has a case of medals that continuously grows right next to the ones her parents earned themselves. they’re nothing but proud for their daughter, but that didn’t mean it made life any easier.

when she begins to become the talk of the town, there’s normally a crowd of people waiting to see her at the ice rink. it’s surprising at first; haseul greets them like friends, signing small pairs of ice skates for little boys and girls, taking photos for those who are the same age as her, speaking like she’s in an interview to adults who want to know more about her. she’s happy that people have watched her perform.

“we’re your fans,” says two girls from her high sjool. haseul has only seen them in the hallways before. “we’re rooting for you!”

“thank you. i’ll keep working hard,” haseul smiles and she waves them goodbye as they run off, hears their giddiness through their laughter and excited cheering. being approached suddenly by people she didn’t know had been strange at first, but she gets used to it.

just as expected, haseul makes a name for herself among figure skating circles. she’s a hot topic of discussion for fans, another source of rivalry and competition for fellow skaters. it’s nice to make friends with the other competitors when she’s at competition, but haseul finds it disheartening when most of them don’t want anything to do with her.

she’s doing warm ups in a hallway that has the least foot traffic in the building. haseul doesn’t like to be in the way when she’s preparing for the performance. “i know sports are a dog-eat-dog world, but is it really that hard to be friends with someone you’re competing with?” haseul asks her friend.

jung jinsoul chuckles a bit. “well, you’re  _ the _ jo haseul. i think if anything, people are kind of scared and in awe of you at the same time.”

“scared of  _ me _ ?” she replies incredulously. it’s impossible to be scared of her—haseul couldn’t even harm a fly if she wanted to. she pouts. “you know me the best, jinsoul, i don’t have a scary bone in my body.”

they met three years ago, when jinsoul had made her debut in the competitive world. haseul had already been a seasoned skater, with a number of competitions under her belt. back then, she had always kept to herself at the competitions because of her shyness, but jinsoul had exuded such an amiable radiance that it was hard for haseul to ignore her. they talked while jinsoul warmed up for her free skate performance, and when she had come back from the rink, haseul sat with her in the kiss and cry.

inseparable ever since, haseul would consider jinsoul her best friend. there isn’t anyone else she could go to when she needed something, and similarly, jinsoul warmed up to her just as fast.

“i’m just saying! but don’t worry about it seullie,” jinsoul reassures her again, this time reaching out to pat her shoulder. when haseul smiles, jinsoul smiles too. “they don’t know what they’re missing out on. not only are you a great skater, you’re a great gal too!”

“that’s not true,” haseul sighs, “i have a lot of shortcomings…”

when haseul starts to get doubtful of what she’s capable of, jinsoul’s the one who’s by her side, a frown on her face, telling her that she has so much to be confident and proud of. for example: right now. haseul sees the down expression on her face and she can’t help but giggle sometimes, because jinsoul looks like a kicked puppy whenever she’s frowning. (it’s the eyebrows, she thinks, swears that jinsoul’s eyebrows have more life to them than her coach.)

“oh, don’t be like that,” jinsoul whines. she wraps an arm around haseul’s waist and pulls her into her side. “you’re not mean, and you don’t brag about your achievements like some people do. you’re so humble, seriously, you’d think these other girls could learn a thing or two from you.”

it’s really nice, haseul thinks while she’s leaning into jinsoul’s side and relaxing into her, that she has a friend like her around. it makes hard times just a little bit easier.

“if there’s anyone who needs to learn anything, i think you need another lesson on your saljow jumps, jinsoul.”

“h-hey! i’ve been working on it!  _ haseul! _ ”

  
  
  


_ “and we conclude our awards ceremony by congratulating our first place winner… jo haseul!” _

there’s a roar of applause from the audience. haseul steps up onto the pedestal, standing over the two people on either side of her. the third place contestant looks up to smile encouragingly, whispering congratulations and haseul thinks her voice cracks. if she looks down at second place, she’s ignored.

haseul looks her over. second place has pretty, long, dark colored hair in a braid over her shoulder. she can’t see her face, but she’s sure there’s a fake smile on her face. she wonders what the other girl is thinking. they’d all worked hard—haseul almost feels a little bad for being the winner tonight when there are much more talented girls out there.

she sighs, then goes back to pretending to smile and wave at the fans as they cheer for her. haseul leaves that night with a gold medal around her neck.

sometimes it feels like deja vu. competition after competition, haseul stands atop of the first place pedestal with the medal around her neck and a bouquet of flowers in her arms, and the same girl with long dark hair stands below her. it’s always like this; haseul is first place, and the other skater—

despite how long they have been in the same competitive circle, haseul doesn’t know her name. she’s sure she’s heard it being announced over the speakers and has seen the girl skate, but it’s no surprise that she can’t remember names to faces that well (it had taken her at least a week or two to finally call jinsoul by name because she couldn’t remember it for a good while).

haseul learns her name at the next competition. this time, she’s paying close attention to the names of the girls she’s competing with, trying to memorize each face as best as she can. when the girl finally appears on the television monitors, haseul slowly mouths out the name of the girl that is always by her side at the end of the night.

“so it’s you… ha sooyoung.”

  
  
  


ha sooyoung has had her eyes on jo haseul since she was eleven years old.

she’s only ever seen videos of haseul on the internet or through the televised skating competitions, but she can tell that haseul’s flawless skating and elegance transcends what can be seen through the screen. she wonders if they can really be the same age. haseul doesn’t seem like an average eleven year old kid, but considering who her parents are—she supposes it’s only natural that haseul found a place for herself in this life.

sooyoung’s listlessness in her early childhood had come to a halt the more interest she found in the world of figure skating. when the winter olympics were happening, it was the only event she was excited for. she begs her parents to take her out to the ice rink that’s a ways away from home. sometimes she takes her little cousin hyejoo, and they practice skating together.

it’s not surprising to her parents when sooyoung asks for skating lessons, so she can compete like haseul does. it’s the only thing her parents have seen her practically beg for. with much reluctance, sooyoung begins her life as an ice skater.

it’s hard at first. sooyoung’s sense of balance isn’t as good as she thought it was, and the teacher always reminds her about her posture and form. there’s a lot to be learned, and sooyoung learns that to be a competitive skater, there’s more than meets the eye. she thinks the competitive skaters are simply good performers innately, but soon realizes that it takes hard work and discipline to be as good as someone like haseul.

after falling down onto the ice, failing to gain the proper momentum to achieve the amount of rotations in the new jump technique she’s learned, sooyoung grits her teeth and gets back up again.

_ (one day, i’ll be skating on the same ice as you.) _

  
  
  


“you don’t look too nervous.”

sooyoung’s one of three or four skaters in the waiting room, hyejoo sitting beside her. if there’s anyone that she wants by her side the moments before her first skating performance ever, it’s hyejoo. her little cousin is annoying as any other family member could be, but considering the fact that they’re more like sisters than anything—it’s a comfort. she’s not nervous, but a calming force like hyejoo’s presence is enough to keep her heartbeat going steady.

“i guess not, huh?” sooyoung eases into an a small smile, leaning back in her seat. most people would be feeling the first-time-jitters right about now. she’s relaxed, and maybe there’s a couple thoughts about how her performances would go today, but that’s all that’s on her mind right now. all she can think about is how it’ll feel to be out on the ice soon. “i don’t feel like i have any reason to be.”

“even though it’s your first time?”

“because it’s my first time.”

there’s a pause. hyejoo tilts her head. “even if jo haseul is here too?”

“ _ because _ jo haseul is here.”

“hm.”

“what?” the older girl raises an eyebrow at her cousin. is she supposed to be a bundle of nerves right now? she’s not sure what hyejoo is trying to get at. sooyoung figures it’s probably just hyejoo being hyejoo, and leaves the conversation at that. she crosses her legs at the ankles. there’s half an hour left until show time.

amidst the quiet chattering of the other skaters, hyejoo’s voice is the only one sooyoung hears.

“i’m rooting for you.”

“thanks, kiddo.”

  
  
  


she’s not sure if she’s excited or disappointed. sooyoung doesn’t go into her first competition aiming for gold, but standing on the winner’s pedestal in third place puts the thought in her head. it never occurs to her that she could even make it in the top five, let alone the top three.

what shocks her even more is the fact that being in the top three means she’s a foot away from  _ the _ jo haseul, the figure skater that she’s had her eyes on for years. haseul is standing to her left, on top of the tallest part of the pedestal. she’s absolutely shining. sooyoung admires the way the first place skater smiles and waves to the fans.

she’s staring too long. haseul must have felt her gaze on her because she looks down, and for a split second, they’re looking at each other.

sooyoung’s never felt starstruck before. maybe this is what it feels like. butterflies run rampant in the pit of her stomach. somehow, third place seems like a much lighter place to be at.

she sees haseul’s lips move. she can’t hear her voice over the noise of the wild cheering and constant camera shutters going on and off, but she can read lips. her eyes fall onto the shape of her mouth. haseul repeats herself, and sooyoung memorizes the way her lips curve into a smile at the end.

_ congratulations. _

  
  
  


as competitions come and go, sooyoung perfects her skating. there’s a style she’s crafted for herself now; people know ha sooyoung is performing when they witness a complicated step sequence before a jump, when there’s suddenly an unexpected jump combination, when she’s begun to master the art of commanding the audience’s attention.

if jo haseul is a household name because of her much anticipated excellence and how widely acclaimed her parents are in the professional world, then ha sooyoung is the dark horse that nobody knows the name of yet, but will always remember her by her performances at the end of the night.

“did you see this? they’re saying you almost stole haseul’s gold medal last night,” hyejoo asks her. the news is on the television, even though sooyoung had already asked her to put on the saturday morning cartoons.

“it’s not wrong,” sooyoung doesn’t look up from her bowl of cereal. “i was the runner up.”

“it’s the way they phrased it,” the younger girl’s eyebrows knit together. “they said you almost  _ stole _ it—like it’s only supposed to belong to her.”

“are you worried about the media hurting me, hyejoo? that’s so sweet of you.”

“shut up,” she thinks she hears hyejoo’s voice waver at the end. sooyoung raises an eyebrow. maybe she’s just hearing things. it’s not like hyejoo to be shaken up about something. “i just don’t like it when they act like you’re not one of, if not,  _ the _ best skater there is. you’re only runner up because haseul is always number one.”

“don’t say what i think you’re going to say, son hyejoo…”

“if she wasn’t in the league, you’d be there,” the younger girl looks at her. sooyoung meets her gaze. “you would be number one.”

she lets hyejoo’s words settle. after a moment, hyejoo switches the channel to the saturday morning cartoons like she’d asked for, and sooyoung goes back to finishing her cereal. they don’t say another word to each other the rest of the morning.

  
  
  


haseul’s parents wouldn’t miss one of her competitions if they could help it, so she finds it discomforting when they tell her there’s business to attend to one year, on the day of the world juniors championships. haseul is eighteen years old, right at the edge of aging out of the juniors league. this is one of her most important competitions yet.

“jinsoul, i don’t know why but i have this… i have this bad feeling,” she confides.

the other girl is putting away their suitcases into the hotel room’s closet, shutting it close when she hears haseul’s voice. in the next moment, she’s right by haseul’s side.

“are you nervous?” she asks gently. jinsoul knows how much this competition means to her friend. it’s a big marker in her career, after all.

haseul shakes her head. “it’s not about the competition,” she starts, biting on the inside of her cheek. an uneasy feeling upsets her stomach. “i don’t know what it is, but it’s not sitting right with me. i just hope it goes away on its own.”

she tries not to let the unsettling feeling get to her the rest of the night. the flight from seoul to iceland had been a long one, with nine hours of layover in austria, and exhaustion hits her hard once she lays down.

haseul dreams about her parents seeing her on the ice tomorrow morning, wishes it could be reality instead. 

how much sleep did she manage to get? the sun isn’t up yet, but haseul blearily wakes up anyway after feeling jinsoul shake the living wits out of her. as she sits up, she rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. she can make out the frown on jinsoul’s face, but she isn’t sure why it’s there in the first place.

“haseul. _haseul_ , wake up—please, haseul, you’ve got to wake up…”

“it’s barely morning, jinsoul, what is it…”

“god, your phone was ringing so much just now and i picked up the call… your parents, they—”

“… they what?” haseul’s eyebrows knit together. she’s trying to piece together the puzzle that is jinsoul’s words. the other girl’s frantic, and she’s not sure she’s ever seen jinsoul like this before. with a sleep ridden voice she asks, “what about my parents?”

she sees jinsoul’s expression go sour. haseul remembers the bad feeling from the other day. her heart starts to drop into her stomach.

“your parents…” jinsoul’s voice shakes. her friend’s hands finds hers and jinsoul holds onto her as if she’s the last living thing on earth. “haseul, they got into an accident…”

her heart breaks.

  
  
  


_ “in today’s sports news…” _

sooyoung’s barely awake when she makes her way into the living room. hyejoo’s always the first one awake (or the last one to go to sleep? sometimes she never knows. hyejoo’s always playing her games when she goes to bed and when she wakes up) and has the television tuned into the news. she fixes herself a bowl of cereal, then plops down onto the couch. the news isn’t morning cartoons, but it’s something to listen to in the background.

_ “… were lost in a tragic accident while on the way to iceland. we give our sincere condolences to the family …” _

“guess someone died in the sports world,” she comments in between mouthfuls of cereal. hyejoo’s sitting at her desktop computer with her headphones over her ears, so sooyoung expects no answers from her. whatever, it’s not like they talk all that much to begin with. sooyoung fills her next spoonful up with a large heaping of cereal.

_ “… haseul has told the press that she will be retiring from her figure skating career after the loss of her family …” _

sooyoung drops her cereal. 

  
  
  


the first competition without jo haseul competiting feels lackluster. sooyoung is waiting for the awards to be announced at the end of the night with a blank look on her face. today had gone well. her short program was near perfect, and her free skate performance had gone without a hitch. sooyoung’s one of the most skilled skaters in the korean league now—this is the level of performance that anyone could expect from her.

_ “and in first place,” _ a man’s voice ejoes over the speakers. there’s suddenly a hush of silence as the audience anticipates the winner of the competition.  _ “is ha sooyoung!” _

sooyoung steps into the spotlight, makes her way to the winner’s pedestal. she walks pass the winner in second place. normally that would be her there, standing on the second-tallest part of the pedestal, and at the top of it…

she bites back the thought. then she puts on a thin smile, dipping her head so that the skating officials can slip the gold medal around her neck. sooyoung looks out to the crowd around her and takes a moment to listen to their cheering.

before, if she looked up from second place, haseul would be beside her. they would exchange a simple word of congratulations, maybe shake hands, and that was it. those moments had been fleeting, but they were the only moments that made skating worth it. sooyoung looks up now, but all she sees is the fluorescent light shining on her. there’s no one above to look down on her and say “congratulations, sooyoung, you made it!” anymore.

_ the spotlight is blinding up here,  _ she thinks.

(after the awards ceremony, she meets up with hyejoo to go home. her cousin gifts her a bouquet she bought on the spot, a mixture of daisies and daffodils. they smell wonderful, and she teases hyejoo about being all showy now that she placed gold for the first time since her debut.

as hyejoo walks beside her back to the car, she can’t help but think of what the younger girl said before. _ “if she wasn’t in the league, you’d be there. you would be in first place.” _ )

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 9/30/18: @fangirlinwinter on twitter drew this cute fanart of lippie!! please check it out here!! thank you so much <3 <3 <3 https://twitter.com/fangirlinwinter/status/1046581031241961473


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